Hogswatch Eve
by Wally In Aeternum
Summary: In which Rincewind gives some valuable shopping advice to his nemesis and Death does a runner.


Disclaimer: I, contrary to popular belief, am not Terry Pratchett. Therefore it is to my great chagrin that I own neither Discworld nor its denizens, or Mr. Pratchett'snice black fedora. I'm not sure which one I'm more upset about.

...but a girl can dream, can't she?

Hogswatch Eve:

That special time of the year when Ankh Morporkians set aside their quarrels and prejudices, uniting with family and neighbors to celebrate the barbaric traditions of primal man by feasting, drinking, feasting, pausing to vomit and stagger off to the loo, and then drinking some more.

Such a magical time. For some, that is.

Rincewind was sitting at a bar counter, staring deep into the depths of his beer. _Some beverages_, he reflected, transfixed, _should just _not _be clear_. It made it easier to see the things swimming in it. On the other hand, if it could support life it might only be mildly poisonous. He squinched his eyes shut and bravely downed the lot. Whoosh. Goodbye, my little unidentifiable submarine companions. And a merry Hogswatch to you.

The bartender ambled over. "More of the same, friend?"

"Erm...I think I'll try the green one with the congealed purple layer."

"Sure t'ing."

Something nudged Rincewind's foot. "Oh. Make that two, I suppose."

The Luggage opened its lid obligingly. After some initial difficulty breaking the skin, Rincewind poured something definitely and corrosively alcoholic into the trunk. The lid clanged shut, a huge red tongue licking the edges. The Luggage shuffled a few steps on its hundreds of tiny feet and fell over. Rincewind took a thoughtful swig of his own drink. Nothing beat Ankh-Morpork beer, except some of the more imaginative Klatchian hallucinogens.

NICE NIGHT, ISN'T IT?Commented a voice nearby. It rang with the velvet-muted tones of funeral bells.

At the sound of it, Rincewind froze. He measured the distance to the door, butfound that for once in his life he couldn't move his legs.He stared accusingly at the drink at his elbow.

The figure to his left, which may or may not have been there all along, turned its head and grinned.

Of course, Death always grinned.

HELLO. FANCY MEETING YOU HERE.

"I'm going to die. I'm going to die on Hogswatch Eve," said Rincewind heavily. "Thank the gods I'm drunk."

WELL, NO, said Death. I'M NOT HERE ON BUSINESS.

"You don't say?"

This wasn't entirely reassuring to Rincewind. Death had taken a personal interest in Rincewind from the start, seeing as he never, ever died when he was supposed to. He was usually running too fast.

COULD YOU GIVE ME SOME ADVICE ON A DIFFICULT MATTER, DO YOU THINK? AH, BARTENDER...

The bartender hurried over and took the figure's order (YOUR FINEST LAGER, MY GOOD MAN) but paused at the taps... Was that a _scythe _leaning on the counter? Then his memory inexplicably blurred, leaving him with the vague impression that something was not quite right.

I'M TRYING TO BUY A DRESS FOR MY GRANDDAUGHTER. WHICH IS BETTER – THE RED OR THE PURPLE?

Rincewind watched with a mangled grin as Death procured several parcels from the depths of his cloak. _Ahhh, yes, a typical Hogswatch eve, yessir, here's me giving the Grim Reaper some shopping advice..._Why couldn't ordinary horrible things happen to him?

"Er, well, the red one is rather – hang on, your _what?_"

GRANDDAUGHTER, said Death helpfully. THE FEMALE OFFSPRING OF ONE'S OFFSPRING.

"Well, yes, but-" Rincewind closed his mouth. "How'd _that _happen?"

NOT THROUGH BLOOD, OF COURSE. ADOPTED. BUT SHE'S TERRIBLY HANDY WITH A SCYTHE.

"Oh, yes?"

I THINK THE RED ONE IS RATHER NICE. SHE'S NOT VERY IMAGINATIVE IN CLOTHING. ALWAYS BLACK. Death hesitated. OR IS IT TOO...ER...WHAT'S THAT FUNNY FOREIGN WORD YOU PEOPLE HAVE?

"Risqué?" croaked the wizard. "No...It's very, er, eye-catching. Pretty, is she?"

YES. MAYBE. I WOULDN'T KNOW. I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT THAT SORT OF THING. THE RED ONE, THEN?

"What? Oh, definitely," Rincewind said faintly. "I'm sure she'll like it."

I HOPE SO, Death said worriedly. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR BOX WITH LEGS?

Rincewind looked around. "Yes. It's somewhere about." There came a scream from near the door. "It's over there."

SAPIENT PEARWOOD. HOW ODD. IT SEEMS QUITE ATTACHED TO YOU.

Rincewind sighed. "It doesn't have emotions. It can't be attached. It just...won't go away."

NEVERTHELESS, said Death mildly as the Luggage pattered up and proudly deposited a wallet at Rincewind's feet.

"Damn. Not again," He picked the purse up resignedly and began counting out the coins.

I TRUST YOU'RE KEEPING WELL.

"Oh, you know. So-so..."

NO.

"Come again?"

I _DON'T _KNOW.

"Never mind, then.

IF YOU LIKE.

A pause.

THERE APPEARS TO BE AN AQUATIC MULTIPED IN MY DRINK.

"Er, really? All I've got are some little swimming bugs."

Another pause.

ATTENDED ANY GOOD WAKES LATELY?

Rincewind looked sideways at the Scourge of Empires. "Are you, of all people – er, entities... actually trying to make pleasant conversation?"

I'M NOT ESPECIALLY PROFICIENT, I KNOW. I HAVE FLASH CARDS IN CASE OF EMERGENCY.

"Most people talk about the weather and things like that. They don't usually like to be reminded of their mortality."

OH... IT APPEARS TO BE SNOWING GUSTILY, WITH WINDS OF UP TO TWENTY MILES AN HOUR. HUMIDITY IS AT AROUND THIRTY PERCENT.

"You're getting the hang of it already."

REALLY? I'M SO PLEASED. OH, DEAR...

"What?"

Death rose to his full height of seven feet and shouldered his scythe and shopping bags. "Duty calls."

"On _Hogswatch Eve_?"

ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT EVIL SLEEPS FOR HOGSWATCH? LEAVES A STOCKING OUT FOR THE SOUL CAKE DUCK, PERHAPS?

"Of course...not... Silly of me."

I MUST BID YOU _ADIEU_, IT APPEARS.

Rincewind turned this one over doubtfully. "Oh. Does it really?"

IT MEANS 'GOODBYE', OR SO I'M TOLD.

"Oh."

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ADVICE.

"Most welcome. Glad to be of help."

GOODBYE.

"Er...yes. Goodbye."

AND RINCEWIND?

At the tone in Death's voice, the hairs on Rincewind's neck stood up and reached for the sky. Quaking, he turned to look at the gaunt figure in the doorway.

Death was grinning.

HAPPY HOGSWATCH, RINCEWIND.

"Y-y-y-yes. Er. You too."

Then the figure was gone, leaving only a gust of snow as the door banged shutand a fleeting shadow on the minds of the revelers within.

Except for Rincewind, who was left with Death's bill.

FIN


End file.
